A long tattered night,
Cursive moonlight shines.
Each word is muddled,
Forming granite tears.
My heart beats in fourths,
Tapping my pen in thirds,
Forming a waltz of emotions,
As all my notes unfold.
Paper-thin melodies,
When will the crescendo end?
Scribble then scramble,
The words fade into dissonance.
They say that its just noise...
The chords I am mouthing,
Is nothing but rambling.
My heart's chorus never came.
All the grinded words,
Leave ink-stained falsities.
An amalgamation of fantasy,
Would it answer my plight?